The Girl in the Ditch
by complexcase
Summary: My first attempt at Bones fanfiction! Follows the basic structure of most episodes, complete with a case, friendship and humour, a touch of romance, and the occasional angsty moment thrown in. AH, hints of BB. Ch 10 up, COMPLETE. Please R&R. Thanks!
1. A new case

_Ok, here is my first ever Bones fanfiction... I'm not sure if it's any good and would really appreciate constructive feedback, any pointers on what people want to read!! _

_Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. I'm just borrowing them for a wee while. _

* * *

Special Agent Seeley Booth flipped his lucky poker chip in the air, caught it, and proceeded to straighten one of his many snappy ties, (today emblazoned with an apt pattern of white bones on a black background), as he strode whistling through the Jeffersonian's impressive Medico-Legal lab in D.C. Heading toward the raised platform he had to smile at the band of squints examining their latest body; chuckling inwardly he watched Zach frown at the remains, large-eyed through a magnifying glass while attempting to ignore Hodgins's taunts about some girl in the archaeology department. Angela, perched on the edge of a desk and armed with her sketch pad and pencil, darted her eyes playfully at 'Hodgy' and looked thoroughly amused at his teasing, along with Cam, who was smiling and shaking her head, though her eyes remained on the table in front of her. Only Dr. Temperance Brennan was fully engaged in the task at hand and Booth slowed his step, letting his eyes follow her as she circled the table and spoke into her voice recorder. Incomprehensible as her anthropological jargon often was to him he enjoyed seeing her enthusiasm barely contained as she did the job she loved and excelled at. 

'Hey Bones!' he called, 'we got bones!' He fished around in his inside pocket for his access pass, swiped it cleanly through the reader and jogged up the few steps to meet his partner head on. She switched off the recorder and turned to face him, wide-eyed and smiling as she elaborated in her current project lying on the examination table:

Yes – a 450-year-old skeleton to be exact, if it's authentic! Archaeologists excavating some Incan ruins last week uncovered what appears to be a burial ground and they've had some of the remains shipped here from Peru. It really is a remarkable find'.

'Well we have another, slightly more recent remarkable find, which I think, you'll find just as interesting. A guy went for a walk this morning, threw a stick for his dog; the dog came back with an _arm bone_'. He paused for effect and received an emphatic 'Ew' from Angela. Brennan however stared at him blankly and asked exactly why he thought that would interest her more than what was possibly an authentic Incan tribe member. Her eyes drifted down to his tie and she tilted her head, brow wrinkled. She briefly considered explaining that the lengths of the different bones in relation to one another were not anatomically correct but was jolted back to the conversation as Booth's fingers snapped in front of her nose.

'So the dog led his owner to the rest of the body, he called the police, it's on state land so they called _us_, and _I_ came to get _you_. That's the way it works'. Raising his eyebrows and flashing a wide grin, he placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled gently, evidently planning on guiding her away from the ancient distraction on the table. 'So – get your stuff, let's go Bones!'

'Booth, you can't just waltz in here and abduct me whenever you want to, I have other work too. Archaeologist, anthropologists, and scholars the world over are waiting on my authentication of these remains – this discovery could be hugely influential, not to mention', she added smiling, 'very exciting'. She turned back to the skeleton and Booth frowned at the back of her head, not really feeling the squinty enthusiasm. Moving forward and placing his hands on the table he stood over the remains and looked them up and down, 'Come on Bones, the squints can handle this guy'.

'It's female, Brennan countered, as she slapped his hands away from the table. Stepping back, arms raised in an attitude of self-defence, the persistent FBI agent grinned at her again and stated matter-of-factly, 'You're the best Bones, we need you out there'. Making a quarter turn and stopping to face her partner Brennan sighed,

'Don't think I'll fall for your charm smile'. Try as she might however she found she couldn't resist, and she cursed herself as a smile played on her features, mirroring his and making her eyes sparkle. Damn he was infuriating! Straightening and shifting her weight from one foot to the other she pursed, clamping her lips together the way she always did when things weren't going her way. Booth noticed, and seized the opportunity.

'Right, so we'll go investigate the new body, and you guys, do what you need to do with this one'. Zach's arm shot up in the air as he enthusiastically offered to confirm cause of death; Angela assured her friend that she would get a face for the woman.

'Right people, that leaves Hodge-Podge with the dirt and it's all good', finished Cam. Hodgins glared at her.

'How many times? 'Dirt' is a generic term – it's useless'. He nodded at Brennan, 'I'll take the dust and particulates, see if she really was buried when they think she was'.

Brennan sighed and peeled off her latex gloves, stuffing them in her lab coat pocket before undoing the buttons and shrugging it off on her way down the steps. She headed to her office to get her jacket and the case of equipment she needed for fieldwork, while Booth remained on the platform facing the squint squad uncomfortably.

'Nice tie', Cam smiled at him. He once more tossed the poker chip in the air, caught it deftly and smiling returned it to his pocket,

'Well you know, I like to make an effort'. Angela eyed the pair knowingly.

'You've seen Katy from archaeology right? Briefly?' Zach glanced nervously at him, raising his eyebrows questioningly, 'so, do you think I have a shot? What should I do to get her attention?'

'Well I'll see you later!' Booth interrupted before turning and joining Brennan at the bottom of the steps. Zach smiled slightly and nodded. The agent was ignoring him – things were good between them.

* * *

The SUV pulled up at a cordoned off section of the road, winding its way through the woods like a black river. A tall balding man wearing spectacles joined Brennan and Booth as the bickering pair stepped down from the car, and introduced himself as Detective Rayner. 

'Hi, I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan-'

'Forensic anthropologist. Where are the remains?'

'Doesn't waste any time does she?' Rayner glanced at Booth then back at the tall, very attractive, and very focussed woman in front of him, 'this way Dr. Brennan'.

She followed him, quickly pulling her hair back into a ponytail, zipping her blue coveralls to the top, and sliding on her gloves as they approached the scene. The body was in a ditch that ran alongside the tarmac, overgrown and tangled with tree roots and brambles. The wet autumn weather had soaked the mounds of brown leaves that covered the area, and a damp musty smell pervaded the air, along with that distinctive and nauseating aroma of rotting flesh, by now all too recognisable to Booth. Holding the bottom corner of his suit jacket over his mouth and nose he looked on in obvious disgust as Brennan stooped to get a closer look. The bone that had been retrieved earlier from the clamped jaws of a very possessive terrier was laid out on blue plastic sheeting spread on the side of the road, but it had not been touched since. All officers and detectives on the scene had been forewarned about contaminating evidence, and the woman they would be answering to if they dared.

Carefully brushing away a branch Brennan looked at the remains. Slowly moving her eyes over the contours of the skeleton she let them speak to her, tell her their history. Who had they been? Nothing was left now but broken bones barely covered by torn and blackened flesh, hollow eyes crawling with maggots, dirt laden hair that used to be blonde; it was her job to discover what they used to be, if they were healthy, if they played sport, if they had ever broken their arm falling off a bike.

'It's female. Aged between 15 and 20, definitely Caucasian. The fracture on the skull suggests blunt force trauma, and there are also breaks to three ribs that I can see…' she trailed off and turned her attention to the separated bone lying at her side, which she now lifted and gently turned in her hands.

'It's the left radius. The teeth marks here', she pointed, 'and here, show where the dog pulled on the bone trying to detach it from the body. There are similar marks here on the ribs and the femur, also a number of phalanges are missing and there's evidence of chewing and scraping… so other animals have probably been feeding off the body since it's been here. No other injuries to this arm but her right one is badly broken. The bone would have protruded _through_ the skin'. Somewhere behind her Booth cleared his throat and inhaled deeply in an attempt to hold on to his breakfast now that he had several unappealing images firmly imprinted on his mind; she ignored him and continued, 'I can confirm cause of death back at the lab'.

'How long has it been here?'

'Due to the location and the damp conditions – and of course the animals feeding – I'd say rate of decomposition has been extremely fast. She's probably only been here three weeks at the most. There's a lot of insect activity, Hodgins can look at that and give you a more precise answer'.

Giving rapid orders to people to bag the remains and ensure their safe removal to the Jeffersonian, Brennan once more snapped off her gloves and headed for the car, with Booth in close pursuit, smiling. He knew that she was secretly pleased at being 'abducted' by him and taken into the field. And he knew that despite claiming disinterestedness she would not stop until she had found out what happened to this young girl and laid her to rest properly.

* * *

_Well there it is, I hope you enjoyed it... please read and review!! Be the first and make my day :-D _

_tmprnc_


	2. An identity

_Wow, I really didn't think I'd get such good reviews for my first fic :-) Thanks guys, you made my day, especially **jemb **for such a detailed and helpful review, I really appreciate you taking the time to do that. _

_So here is chapter 2, moving the case forward, and of course a little more banter between our favourite crime fighting duo. As far as forensic science goes I'm really no expert but I've done my best to research techniques and the kind of things they can find out._

_Disclaimer: **still** don't own them. sigh._

* * *

'The victim was small, 5'3" and approximately 110lbs', Brennan stood facing the remains, hands in her pockets, looking round at her colleagues on the lab platform. 'The injuries that are visible suggest trauma caused by a huge impact, but I'll need the bones cleaned before I can be sure of cause of death – Zach can do that once Cam and Hodgins have everything they need'. 

'Will do Dr. Brennan'.

'I'll take these maggots and a soil sample, get us an exact time of death', added Hodgins as he scooped up a few of the writhing bugs into a Petri dish, then stopped and squinted further at a fleck of colour visible on the victim's right side.

'Oh ho! What have we here?' he smiled excitably, bright blue eyes flashing with enthusiasm as he leaned over to tweeze the evidence out. 'Paint chips, some sort of metal! Could she have been hit by a car?'

'It's possible', Brennan agreed, 'it would explain the location she was found in…' Hodgins sat back on his chair and kicked off, wheeling across the platform and back and round to his desk, clutching his finds.

Cam was fingering through folds of the girl's clothing, ripped to shreds by animals in some places, but still possibly holding vital DNA evidence. Reaching into a pocket she frowned, then using tweezers removed a square of cardboard, holding it up to the light. It was a photograph, bent and damaged from a combination of water, insect activity, and decay, but it clearly showed a smiling couple. An older looking man held his arms around a young girl and kissed her neck as his eyes turned cheekily toward the camera and she laughed, head back, mouth wide.

'Let's clean this up, see if we can get a clearer image to work with. My guess is that's _her_, now we just need to find _him_'.

* * *

Booth's ears pricked up as he neared the bone room and he continued, listening to the animated voices of his partner and her grad student discussing the latest remains, volleying ideas and questions across the light table. They didn't even look up as he entered the high-ceilinged room, walled with translucent boxes showing row upon row of human skeletons, but she seemed to sense his presence as she stated, 

'The breaks to ribs four, five, and six on the right side, and five and six on the left, along with a pelvic fracture and the radial break, are consistent with her being hit by a car. As is the trauma to the right side of the skull'.

'Hit and run?' She looked at him.

'Well, that's really what you're supposed to figure out Booth'.

Zach then piped up from the other side of the room, where he pointed at a screen showing the inside of the skull.

'These injuries resulted in a subdural haematoma-'

'That's bleeding in the brain', Brennan reminded her partner, looking at him in that patronising manner that he only forgave because she was so wonderfully unaware of it possibly being offensive.

'What is this, show and tell? I _know_ sub dermal haemothingy ok Bones, I've worked with you for two years. And I pay attention in class'.

'Obviously. It's DURAL. HAEMATOMA', she worked her mouth, pronouncing every syllable slowly until his bemused look told her that he really didn't care for the details. With an exaggerated roll of the eyes and an air of exasperation she turned back to the table hiding a twitch of a smile, while Zach looked on, wondering if this was what Angela meant by 'chemistry'.

'That's what killed her. There are a number of older injuries too, not all of them were set properly, and there's evidence that they weren't always allowed to heal before she was injured again. It's a classic sign of abuse'.

'Woah, are you jumping to conclusions Bones? 'Cause that sounded like one giant leap to me'. She sighed,

'It's a rational theory Booth, one that might help us to identify her'.

'I can do that', Angela's smooth voice came through the doorway, 'I've got a face'. She gestured toward her office and the others passed her in the doorway, as she sighed and muttered to herself.

'Brennan's not gonna like this'.

* * *

Everyone but Cam, who was still waiting on her DNA results, was gathered around the Angelator, looking at the pretty face of a teenaged girl as it slowly rotated three dimensionally in the holographic display. Large innocent looking eyes and a small mouth smiled out at the darkened room, and on the five faces staring back at her, bathed in the warm orange glow of Angela's invention. 

'She looks so young', breathed Zach quietly. Angela nodded.

'Small for her age. I ran the face through the missing persons' database', she continued as they moved over to her desktop computer, 'it's an exact match for Casey Warren. Sixteen years old, 5'3", 105lbs, blonde hair and blue eyes. She was reported missing three weeks ago, by her foster parents'. Slowing on this last sentence she gave a sad but resigned smile. Next to him Booth felt Brennan straighten; lifting her shoulders and letting them drop back she sighed.

'She was in the system?'

'Yeah sweetie, she was a foster kid'.

'She was pregnant'. Cam entered the room with the revelation as the others turned to look at her.

'What? How did we miss that?' Brennan strode immediately to the door, pulling Zach with her by the elbow of his lab coat.

'We didn't miss anything Dr. Brennan, there were absolutely _no_ foetal bones. Not one, I'm certain of it', he shook his head, speaking rapidly.

'Woah, relax Zacharoni', interjected Cam. '_She_ probably didn't even know she was pregnant – four weeks at most, the embryo would have been barely formed. But from the remains of her flesh and dried blood I was able to find something usable to test. Increased levels of the hormone hCG suggest that she was in the first stages of pregnancy'. Zach let out the breath he had been holding.

Angela moved across to another computer screen and pulled up a scan of the photograph they had found. Zooming in on the girl's face she compared it to the missing persons' database shot.

'It's her. It's Casey'. She clicked on the mouse and dragged the zoom over to the face of the mystery man, smiling out forever from an obviously happy time.

'We really need to find that guy'.

* * *

_Ok, please read and review! I know we're not too far into the plot yet but for future reference please tell me if the case is well explained and making sense to y'all._

_Thanks!_

_tmprnc_


	3. A suspect

_Ooh, check me out with my two updates in one day! I'm doing it because I have work all day tomorrow and then I'm away until Sunday... so no more updates until next week. I also wanted to give you all something more to ponder with regards to the case... _

_Once again thanks for the cool reviews, they're really nice to come back to, and inspire me to keep writing! _

_Quick question: is the rating ok? I know it's T and the references to the physical and sexual abuse are only passing and general, but I've never rated anything before. Best to be on the safe side._

_Disclaimer: Don't own Bones. Rah._

* * *

Jack Hodgins sighed in frustration and disappointment. The paint chips and metal particulates had proved inconclusive and therefore unhelpful. So far he knew that Casey Warren had been hit by a red car, and as Brennan had so kindly pointed out, that did not really move them forward in their investigation too much. She had since left the lab with Booth to visit the foster family and now he remained with Angela, desperately trying to block out Zach's inane chatter about his chances with Katy, which, he had assured him were probably non-existent. He looked up relieved when Cam called to them from Pathology.

As they entered she was looking at a screen showing two very distinct strains of DNA.

'This', she pointed to the top line, 'is Casey Warren's DNA. This', she moved her finger, 'is somebody else. And it's male. I found a hair on her clothes that didn't match her own'.

'Could it be the guy in the picture?' Angela mused aloud.

'Let's run it through CODIS, see if it matches anything', suggested Hodgins, immediately perking up at their new lead.

* * *

'246 Oakland Road', Booth read from the print out in his hand. The large house stood back from the road, three stories overlooking a pristine lawn and a double garage. A little face peered from the downstairs window as he and Brennan headed toward the house, and they soon heard, 'Lucy! There's people at the door!' The heavy wooden door opened as Booth's hand moved toward the knocker and a small immaculate woman stood before them.

'Can I help you?'

'Mrs Ryan? I'm Special Agent Booth and this is my partner Dr. Brennan',

'FBI? What's going on?'

'It's about your foster daughter, Casey Warren?'

'Oh my God. Have you found her?'

'Can we come in?'

Minutes later Brennan and Booth stood in the living room taking in their surroundings while Lucy Ryan made tea in the kitchen. Booth gazed fondly at a child's drawing on the coffee table, scattered with coloured crayons, while Brennan turned her attention to a sideboard covered with photographs in frames. One in particular caught her eye – that of a just greying man wearing a white T and khakis, standing proudly in front of his new car and giving two thumbs up to the camera. Inching closer to Booth and still staring sideways suspiciously at the picture, she poked him gently on the shoulder and whispered.

'Booth'. She continued tapping away on his arm even after he had turned to see what she was looking at, and his eyes focussed on the mystery man with the Jag.

'Booth!'

'Is that…?'

'The man in the photograph we found on Casey's body. But here he is again with Lucy Ryan'. As if on cue the foster mother re-entered the room carrying a trembling tray of drinks.

'She was a difficult child, I won't lie. We weren't sure we could handle her, more than once we discussed, you know, telling DCF that we couldn't do it anymore, that she was a bad influence on the other kids',

'You wanted to just send her back?' Brennan questioned her. Booth turned his head, looking at her with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation, as his forthright partner pressed on, 'she was probably _difficult_ because of the abuse she'd already suffered',

'Bones-'

'We tried, Dr. Brennan, but she was angry you know? Such a pretty girl, she looked so innocent but she had a temper on her. She ran from six foster homes before this one, so when she disappeared we assumed she'd gone again. We alerted DCF and when we hadn't heard anything after 48 hours we filed a missing persons' report'. Booth shuffled forward on his seat, and looked her in the eye,

'We spoke to the Department of Children and Families, Mrs Ryan, and they confirmed that Casey ran away repeatedly from a number of placements. Her file included a psych evaluation on account of physical and sexual abuse in her childhood'.

'She was emotionally needy… and very confused about relationships. She had these attachment and abandonment issues; she thought that people would leave her if she didn't give them what they wanted, and because of her experiences she assumed that… what they wanted… was automatically sexual. I worried about her influence on the younger girls'.

Brennan cleared her throat – it had gone dry as she listened. She hated hearing about children in the system, and resented the way that they could be passed from family to family if they were 'troubled'. She thought back to all the placements that hadn't worked out for her, but hurriedly distracted herself by changing the direction of the conversation.

'Is that Mr Ryan?' she pointed to the photograph.

'Yes. He's at work right now'.

'What was his relationship with Casey like?'

'Oh Casey and James got on well. She seemed to be doing ok in fact, she was here for four months, and that was a pretty long time given her track record. She seemed to like it here, despite her obvious problems. We were shocked when she ran away. And she was in an accident? A hit and run?'

'We're still establishing the exact order of events, but she was hit by a car, yes'.

'We're sorry Mrs Ryan. The FBI will inform DCF of any new information'.

* * *

A thousand faces appeared on the computer screen in quick succession as the Combined DNA Index System rapidly searched through its database, finally settling on a short, thickset man in his 40's with black hair and piercing eyes. Joseph Furl.

'Well, that's not the guy in the picture', stated Cam.

'What's on his record?' asked Hodgins, whispering a little too closely into Angela's ear as she scrolled down the page of entries, 'wait – dangerous driving? And a DUI?'

'Yeah, he was banned for 3 years, but it looks like he is now back on the road in a Chevrolet. A _red_ Chevrolet'. She turned, her mouth open, toward Hodgins, then gave him a sly sideways smile and lowered her eyes as he nodded.

'Oh, we're good'. Cam smiled and looked round at Zach, who in turned eyed Angela and Hodgins's 'moment' with suspicion, a perplexed expression creasing his features.

* * *

'Brennan', she answered her cell phone as she belted herself into the passenger seat of the SUV, 'oh hey Ange'. Booth turned the key in the ignition and drove off toward the Jeffersonian, waiting to hear the developments.

'Good work', said Brennan, and she turned to the agent, shutting up her cell. 'They know whose car hit Casey. A _Joseph_ _Furl_ – they found his DNA on her clothes too, so he must have moved her body to the ditch after he hit her… to cover up the accident. We have an address; he lives downtown'.

'Great'. Booth swung into a U-turn and set off in pursuit of their suspect, Brennan holding on to the dashboard and informing him that if he continued to drive like that _they_ were going to kill some poor girl somewhere, and that she was more than willing to take over at the wheel.

A while later she brought up the photograph. 'It was James Ryan in that picture with Casey'.

'She was having an affair with her foster father', Booth raised his eyebrows and sighed.

'Booth you heard what Lucy Ryan said. She was needy and vulnerable, and if he took advantage of her, made her feel loved - with her background… sometimes foster kids just… need to feel attached to someone… _anyone_… '. She trailed off and Booth couldn't keep his heart from going out to her. He switched on the radio and smiled as the drum beat of Foreigner filled the car. Looking over at Brennan as she watched the world whizzing by, he prodded her on the leg. She turned, the slight smile on her face gradually growing into a grin that lifted the weight from her features, and she laughed,

'Booth-'

'Come on Bones, sing with me!' He joined in with the chorus to 'Hot Blooded' and she shook her head, refusing for a minute before giving in.

'Aha, there you go, see? Just, no high kicks this time ok Bones, I'm trying to drive'.

* * *

_Don't you just love a cute BB moment? Please read and review!_

_Thanks so much_

_tmprnc_


	4. A confession?

_Hi guys, here's the next installment! This chapter is very case-based, it had to be so I could move things along, so I'm afraid there's a little less banter, and less of the other characters but hopefully I have still stuck true to those I have depicted. This was really hard to write, getting all of the case details right, so please tell me if something doesn't make sense!_

_Oh, also I did some research and I was wrong about the sub dermal haematoma - it **is** dural, lol, so according to my fic Booth was right and Bones was wrong... and we can't have that. Chapter 2 has been corrected :-D_

_Disclaimer: I do actually own Bones. I'm also a pathalogical liar. _

* * *

Joseph Furl was short and stocky. His silky black hair was flat, as if it clung to his head and the sides of his face, and his dark eyes shifted around uncomfortably, never settling on anything for longer than a moment. In short, Booth stated, as they eyed him from the other side of a mirrored window, he looked suspicious. He was of course sternly reprimanded for jumping to conclusions, but even Brennan had to admit, he was the shiftiest looking man she had seen in a long while, as he loosened his tie around a thick neck and drummed an irregular rhythm on the table. He was nervous. They entered the FBI interrogation room and sat opposite him.

'You own a red Chevy?' Booth began.

'Yeah. Why?'

'Are you familiar with a Casey Warren? Her body was discovered two days ago in a ditch at the side of the road - in Falon woods?'

'I don't know what you're talking about'.

'Hmm', the agent nodded slowly. 'You see, that's interesting, because she was hit by a red Chevrolet two and half weeks ago, after she ran away from her foster home'. Furl scoffed.

'You know how many red Chevy's there are? Could have been anyone hit her'.

'You know how many other people have the same DNA as you?' Booth responded, smiling. Their suspect froze for a split second, fingers hovering above the table, eyes flashing between his two interrogators.

'We found a hair containing your DNA on the victim's body', stated Brennan, 'do you have any idea how it got there? Maybe when you moved her? Hid her body in the ditch to cover up the accident?'

'No. I didn't do that'.

'Alright', continued Booth, 'I'm not feeling too patient today, so I'm gonna speed things up a bit, ok? Let's see if these uh, _jog your memory'_. He brought out the photographs of Casey Warren's body and the surrounding area. He had to admit he enjoyed this part of an interrogation, if only for the looks he saw on the suspects' faces.

'You're sure these don't ring any bells. You don't… recognise the location, the ditch you dumped her body in?' Joseph Furl was shaking his head but the arrogance of his earlier replies had vanished.

'What about this then, you're _sure_ you don't recall moving this girl?' He waved the ten by eight print under the suspect's nose then dropped it to the table with the others, '_this_ is Casey Warren. Of course, there was a little more of her when you left her there'.

'Oh God', the round face had paled, the eyes were finally still, and Booth had him. This guy was weak.

'C'mon Joe – can I call you Joe? – Let's be honest here. You hit Casey. You then parked up, got out of your car, dragged her to the ditch, and hid her body right?'

'No! I mean… oh God. I didn't know… you make it sound like I planned… it's just, she was just _there_. She came out of nowhere. She wasn't there, and then all of a sudden… she must have just walked into the road. God, it was an accident I swear! OK? Yes! I killed her but it was an accident! I took my eyes off the road for a _second_ to change the radio station, and when I looked up she was just _standing _in the road up ahead. I sounded the horn… slammed on the brakes… I was yelling but she didn't move. Then, she _fell_…' he looked stunned, 'just collapsed onto the road. And I knew I was gonna hit her…'

Booth was leaning forward over the table, papered with photographs that almost emitted the smell of death. He listened intently, a solemn expression on his face, while his partner flicked her eyes towards him, then back at Furl, her mouth slightly open in concentration as she processed this new information.

'The car slowed down but not enough'. Joseph's voice shook, 'I know, I was going too fast. The road was so narrow I couldn't swerve… it happened so fast… she didn't get up and I… hit her. And then, after…' he swallowed, 'it was horrible… she was _under_ the front of the car, between the wheels… I – I had to move her'.

'You didn't think to, I don't know… call the police?'

'I was gonna lose my license for good, end up in jail if I called it in', two fat tears made their way over his rounded cheeks and he shook his head, 'I got a wife and kids… I'd do anything to stay out of jail! But… moving her… it was… I could hear… this _crack_. And like, a _grinding_…'

'It was probably her arm dislocating… and her ribs shifting where they were fractured. The bone edges would have _rubbed against_ each other as the torso twisted', Brennan demonstrated the movement with her hands until the buzz of her cell phone put an end to her gruesome explanation. Furl had one hand on his mouth and his eyes clenched shut while Booth's expression suggested that he too felt a little queasy, although he enjoyed seeing this guy squirm too much to complain.

'Booth'. Brennan motioned for them to leave the room. As the door closed behind them and they were once more concealed behind the glass she turned to her partner.

'He didn't kill her'.

'What? Bones, we just heard the guy confess'.

'His car _didn't _kill her Booth'.

'Alright what are you saying, are you saying he's lying? That he didn't hit her? 'Cause he sounded pretty serious to me Bones, remember _I'm_ the one that reads people?' Brennan shot him a hurt look; she hated that he thought she was no good with living people, even though she had resigned herself to the fact that it was probably true. She straightened up and briefly closed her eyes as she responded,

'Well _Zach_ reads bones. He's very good at it. He just sent me a message – I have to get back to the lab'. Booth stared at her.

'And I didn't say that he _didn't_ hit her', she added as she waltzed out of the room.

'Ok, Bones, wait up! Do I get to know what the Hell you're talking about, or is this one of those moments where I just… smile and nod?'

* * *

Back in the bone room Booth was finally enlightened on the findings that had caused his partner to leave the FBI building so quickly. He was none too happy at having it spelled out to him by the squint kid, but Zach didn't seem to notice as he rattled off his theory on Casey Warren's cause of death.

'When I examined the skull closer I discovered that the injury causing the subdural haematoma-' Brennan glanced at Booth and he gave an exaggerated nod to say he remembered his earlier lesson, as Zach continued, 'was sustained _before_ the other injuries.'

'How long before?'

'Approximately one week'.

Brennan took over, 'It wasn't a long time, but the bone had started to re-grow around the injury'.

'Ok, where are we going with this?'

'The haematoma was growing for around a week _before_ the victim was hit by Joseph Furl. The size of the staining suggests that by that time it would have created enough pressure on the brain to kill her'.

A look of understanding crossed Booth's face and clicked in his eyes.

'Wait - Furl said that Casey collapsed in the road in front of him. And she didn't get up…'

Brennan smiled at the investigation beginning to take shape as she turned wide-eyed to Booth and half whispered,

'I think she was already dead'.

* * *

_Dun dun duuuuuunnn._

_You know what to do :-)_

_tmprnc_


	5. A new suspicion

_Here we go with chapter 5! I'm really glad you guys are enjoying this story, it's been a lot of fun to write, but also a challenge for me as my first, (and only) extended fanfiction so far. I'm also glad I have you in suspense as far as the plot goes. _

_This installment includes more interaction between not only Brennan and Booth, but also the other characters, as I love Zach and Hodgins scenes. There is also more info to add to the case file, and hints of Brennan opening up a little more on her foster system expereinces in later chapters :-)_

_In response to a comment by **Angelsfire **re. the correct spelling of haematoma/ hematoma... both are correct. I believe the American spelling omits the 'a', but as I'm in England I've always included it! _

_And now on with the story! And as usual, I don't own Bones. _

* * *

The partners once more sat on the comfy, oversized couch in the Ryans' living room, holding mugs of tea as they discussed the new findings. Booth leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees and glanced from Lucy to her husband, while Brennan sat back, slowly roaming her eyes around the room, ears still firmly focussed on the conversation. The ground floor windows looked out over a garden and the sun was flashing its final rays through the glass, laying a dusky pink glow over everything. The only other sound was the laughter of two little girls in the hallway, where they had been banished for the entirety of the visit.

After a lengthy silence, Lucy Ryan spoke first. 'You're saying the car didn't kill Casey… that she was already dead?'

Brennan looked back at her and nodded. 'The vic-, _Casey_ died because of a swelling in her brain, caused by a blow to the head. I believe she sustained the injury a week before she died – while she was still living here'.

'But that's impossible. We would have known about any injury she received'.

Booth took up the questioning, 'Was Casey in any trouble in the days just before she disappeared? Did you punish her for anything, were there any arguments?'

'No, we told you, we were so surprised when she ran away-'

James Ryan, who until now had sat in silence, looked up at the FBI agent and questioned him abruptly. 'Are you suggesting that we had anything to do with this?'

Booth raised his eyebrows. 'Why would you think that, Sir?'

'The foster parents are always suspects. You always think that we _abuse _the kids we take in – sure, there are some bad people in this system, but let me tell you, we love our girls. We loved Casey; we would never have done anything to hurt her'.

Brennan studied the face of the man in front of her, narrowing her eyes almost imperceptibly as she endeavoured to 'read' his face the way Booth might. There was something she didn't quite trust about James Ryan, but she couldn't place it, and being extremely unwilling to rely on her gut feeling rather than rational, empirical evidence, she could only hope that Booth's intuition was doing its job while she worked with the facts. Their individual, and very different, methods of finding the truth never failed to create tension between the pair, and yet inexplicably they complimented and supported each other. She would never fully understand their seemingly mismatched relationship – somehow it just _worked_.

'You have three other children living with you.' Booth's voice cut through another silence.

'Yes', Lucy laid a calming hand on her husband's leg, 'Charlotte's fifteen, Robyn's eleven, and Jemma – she's ten'.

'Did they get on well with Casey?'

'Oh, the younger girls _adored_ her. They thought she was wonderful, copied everything she did'.

'And Charlotte?'

A pause. 'They weren't as close as we had hoped they might be, given the similarity in their ages. Maybe that was the problem though… there was some rivalry between them…'

James continued, 'It wasn't serious. Certainly nothing to warrant Casey taking off like that. Usual teenage girl jealousy you know?' Shifting in his seat, and then rising to shake Booth's hand, he continued, 'Look I think we've told you everything we know…'

'Did you know she was pregnant?' The question filled the air like ice and froze him midway between the two couches. Slowly he returned to his seat and stared first at Booth, then at Brennan. Lucy's expression fairly matched her husband's.

'What? No, we didn't know. I don't think she even had a boyfriend…' She turned to James, 'did you know she was seeing anyone?'

He shook his head, but his eyes were fixed on Brennan, who squared her shoulders and stared back at him knowingly. She definitely didn't trust him, and was almost ashamed of herself for taking her gut reaction so seriously, but she couldn't help it.

'As I said, we've told you everything – you can see my wife and I had no idea about Casey's situation. We tried to understand her, to help her, but these kids, you can never tell exactly what they're feeling, what they've been through. She could have fallen into any number of unsuitable relationships, given her history. If you'll excuse us, the younger girls need to get ready for bed'.

Brennan nodded and glanced sideways at Booth, who was already standing and pulling his card from an inside pocket. Handing it to Lucy he turned to his partner and ushered her out of the room, stating authoritatively,

'Mrs Ryan, Mr Ryan. We'll see you soon'.

* * *

The SUV turned a corner and headed back through the city of DC, now illuminated by the glow of street lights and apartment windows. In the passenger seat Brennan looked thoughtful, her face alternately shadowed and lit as they passed under lampposts.

'I'm just not sure I trust him Booth. He looked, like he was hiding something'.

'Ok, it's just… it's not like you to jump to conclusions on a case Bones. Are you sure you're not being influenced by, you know', he spoke gently, 'your own experiences in the foster system?'

'Booth, I understand that the Ryans are _not_ necessarily the same as any of my foster families. It would be foolish of me to let the past affect my judgement'.

'That doesn't mean it can't happen Bones'.

She sighed. 'I hate-'

'Psychology. I know. Look I'm not overly keen on Ryan myself, and we're not finished with him yet. But we don't have all the facts and you're just, you know, you're very _suspicious_ Bones'.

'Aren't you? He couldn't wait for us to leave today. And as for the facts, we have that photograph. If he was having an affair with Casey, if he'd gotten her _pregnant_ – wouldn't that be motive?'

'See now you're positing a scenario', Booth laughed and indicated left.

'Well maybe I'm learning from you', she widened her eyes at him then shifted her gaze to the road, while he looked back at her, a touch of a smile on his lips.

* * *

The next morning Hodgins was bent over a desk, eyes glued to a microscope as he examined some particulates he had found embedded in the skull of Casey Warren. A pair of chocolate brown eyes shone playfully over his shoulder and peered in an expression of mock interestedness at the tiny specks in the Petri dish, before they looked sideways. Angela turned her attention to the man next to her and a lopsided smile played across her face before she whispered ever so gently in his ear.

'Hi Hodgy'.

'Hi', he turned, brushing her nose with his.

'Are we interrupting something?' Cam's voice preceded her as she climbed the steps to the platform, Zach in tow. Jack and Angela hastily stepped apart, clearing their throats and mumbling their excuses until all four were assembled around a screen linked to the microscope and showing the outlines of whatever it was Hodgins had been examining.

'I've identified the particulates that were present in the victim's skull. Interestingly they're a mixture of organic and synthetic material, comprising quartz, orthoclase, and iron-magnesium minerals, but _also_ traces of acrylic'. The enthusiastic doctor smiled broadly at his listeners, while they stared back.

Angela raised one eyebrow. 'Are we supposed to be excited right now?'

'Well', Hodgins smiled, now looking directly at her, 'I thought maybe, you know, the sound of my voice might just do it for you…'

'Oh…'

'Didn't work for me Hodge-Podge', Cam dampened the atmosphere in her brisk but amused manner and pointed at the screen. 'So what is this?'

'Granite. Hard wearing, and treated too, to protect it from the elements'.

'Studies have shown that speed and intonation of the voice, along with sound level, have a considerable effect on a person's attraction to others. For example to increase sexual appeal – to 'do it' for someone, one should speak lower, slower, and more from the back of the throat, in a deep tone'. Zach stared straight ahead as if rapidly recalling the information word for word, as three bemused faces turned to look at him and Brennan and Booth joined them on the platform.

'So your speech right now, would _not_ be considered as holding a great deal of 'sexual appeal'', Hodgins stated deadpan.

'Maybe you could work on it, for Katy…' Angela added mischievously.

'I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear this conversation,' Booth shot a disturbed look at Zach and then peered at the screen, brow furrowed. Generally feeling a little creeped out whenever the squints started talking sex at work, he wisely re-routed the discussion.

'Tell me something about the case'.

'There were microscopic particles of granite embedded in the victim's skull'.

'So she was whacked over the head with a rock?'

'Or she _fell_ against one', Brennan joined, looking at Booth, 'the Ryan's have a low stone wall in their garden – I noticed it earlier'.

'Granite?' Hodgins questioned.

She considered; her mouth turned down for a second before it straightened and she nodded, eyebrows raised. 'I think so'.

'Alright', Booth clasped his hands and then rubbed them together, 'so we'll go back to Mr and Mrs Ryan, Bones can do her thing with the stone wall, and we'll find out if anything happened before Casey ran away, that they haven't told us'. Taking Brennan's arm he turned towards the steps, but she stopped and looked back.

'Wait, Zach, why would you want to change your voice to attract a woman? Why would you want to change, anything?'

'Are you serious?' Booth pulled his partner round so she was once more facing the other way, and pointed a finger back at the offending squint, who had now opened his mouth to speak.

'If you even attempt to answer that question...' he pulled aside his suit jacket to reveal his gun and Zach swallowed.

With that he left the lab, practically dragging Brennan with him as she muttered something about how, anthropologically speaking, everyone had a desire to somehow change themselves in order to fit into prevalent societal norms, but that technically altering your speech patterns was no less misguided than investing in surgery to change your looks, especially if for the benefit of somebody else. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer for strength, Booth tried not to listen.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Please review now, go on, you know you want to. _

_tmprnc_


	6. An interrogation

_Chapter 6! _

_Enjoy..._

_Oh, and uh, incase you were wondering, I don't own anything to do with Bones. Except season 1 on dvd and a David Boreanaz poster. _

* * *

'Alright Bones, let's stick with your theory. James Ryan gets Casey Warren pregnant. She finds out – I mean, she was far enough along for it to show up on a test right?' Booth raised his eyebrows briefly at Brennan and she nodded before returning her gaze to the buildings and trees flashing past the window of the SUV. 'So _he_ finds out, panics, doesn't want his wife to know that he's sleeping with their foster daughter, and… _bam_-'

'Wait', his partner turned back to him and he could almost see her brain working behind those eyes. 'Booth this makes no sense. If he'd wanted to _kill_ her he could have easily succeeded – she was half his size…'

'So maybe they just fought, she got injured, on the wall… ran away from him'.

Brennan pursed her lips in thought and nodded slowly; looking first out of the window and then at Booth, as the ringing of his cell filled the car. She was getting the hang of this positing a scenario thing – although she still didn't understand how it could be relied upon without evidence, she was beginning to see the benefits of discussing possible theories. It was like brainstorming.

'Booth', he pressed the phone to his ear, one hand remaining on the wheel and steering them effortlessly through the city. 'Yes Sir… OK… we're on our way there now Sir'. He hung up and sighed.

'What happened?

'DCF called. Charlotte Dean was reported missing this morning'.

'The Ryans' other foster daughter? But we were only there yesterday evening'.

'Well apparently she didn't come down for breakfast this morning. Mrs Ryan checked her bedroom…' he shrugged, 'her bed hadn't been slept in'.

'You think it's connected to Casey's disappearance?'

'Bit of a coincidence don't you think Bones? We need to get back and re-question the Ryans'.

'Ok', Brennan nodded and gestured to his feet, 'well, tread on it'.

'Step, Bones'.

'What?'

'You mean s_tep_ on it'. He looked meaningfully at her, as she stared blankly back. 'Never mind'.

* * *

'What exactly is she doing?' James Ryan asked, as he and Booth stood by the kitchen window watching a cloaked figure slowly make its way along the length of the garden wall. Brennan was inspecting the granite, spraying Luminol under cover of some dark material to block out the sunlight, and painstakingly checking every inch of the stone.

'Squinting. You'd be surprised at what she can find out, when she squints at things'. Booth eyed him suspiciously, then turned back to look out at his partner. She stopped and removed the material. He saw her lean closer, then straighten up and search in her kit for a Q-tip and test tube. With the former she rubbed at the surface of the stone before securing it tightly in the tube and turning to face the house. Her eyes met Booth's and he knew she had found something.

'Mr Ryan, we're going to have to see the girls' bedrooms now'.

'They shared a room', Lucy stated as she entered from the hallway. 'I can take you up there'.

Minutes later Brennan had rejoined Booth and the pair were stood in the middle of a spacious room on the second floor. The area was clearly divided in two, each side designed in the same layout. There were two single beds, two book shelves, two desks. A bright pink rug lay sprawled in the centre and the walls were splashed with posters and notices.

'That was Charlie's side', Lucy pointed to the desk nearest the window, arranged with precision. 'She was much neater than Casey, everything was ordered, aligned. I'm surprised Casey could ever find anything on this side of the room'. She gestured as Brennan and Booth began to move slowly, taking in the surroundings. 'I'll leave you to it'.

The stairs creaked as she descended back to the lower level; in the bedroom Brennan replaced her gloves and fingered her way through some text books on Charlie's shelf before turning her attention to a school portrait. She looked remarkably similar to Casey, perhaps a little taller, but with the same long blonde hair, and those innocent, open eyes. Booth meanwhile was busy poking through the trash with his pen, looking for anything that may suggest an upset or an argument.

'She didn't take much with her', Brennan mused. 'She left in a hurry – wait -'. Peering at the wall she frowned and pointed to some tacks that had obviously held something in place. 'She tore some things down from this wall Booth, maybe photos… see where there are still traces of paper attached?'

Booth joined her, but she suddenly turned and walked determinedly to Charlie's bed, specifically to a point about halfway along the mattress, where the sheet had been pulled free.

'Look at this'.

'So she didn't make her bed very well', Booth suggested, then shifted his position and held a finger up as he remembered what Lucy had told them. 'But, Charlie was the tidy one…'

Brennan smiled at him, 'She wouldn't have left it like that'. Bending down and feeling under the mattress she continued, 'When I was in foster care I would keep my secrets here. I couldn't trust any of the other kids, or the parents, so I would push them right… to the centre of my bed… under the mattress'. She stretched her fingers and ran her arm the length of the bed.

'What kind of secrets?' Booth stared intently at the back of her head, wishing he could know everything that went on in there, and be given the chance to understand the enigma that was Temperance Brennan.

'Just things like…' she pulled back, clutching something folded, 'photographs'. She smiled up at him. Opening the picture in her hands and smoothing down the creases, she froze. 'Uh, Booth?'

'Yup'. He leaned over her shoulder and they both stared at the picture in front of them. It was definitely Charlie, posed on a bench, an older man at her side. Brennan's skin crawled as she saw James Ryan's arms draped languidly around the fifteen-year-old's waist, his chin gently nuzzling her neck.

* * *

'Can you describe your relationship with both Casey Warren and Charlotte Dean?' Booth had his elbows on the table, his chin rested on clasped hands as he surveyed the face of the girls' foster father. Brennan paced the interrogation room behind him, thinking and occasionally glaring at the accused, her arms crossed in front of her.

'I was their father figure. We got on well'.

'I think you got on a little more than 'well' Mr Ryan'.

'I don't know what you mean'.

'Well, maybe these will help you out'. The two photographs, sealed in evidence bags, were placed with care on the table, and James Ryan stared at them before bringing a hand up to his mouth and blowing out a deep breath.

'Look, it's not what you think'.

'What do we think Mr Ryan?' Brennan placed her hands on the table next to Booth and looked across at their suspect.

'You think I killed them. That I, I was _abusing_ them, that I… got Casey _pregnant_, and I killed her… but you're _wrong_. I didn't even know she was pregnant until you told us'.

'Did you, or did you not have a sexual relationship with both girls?' Booth pressed.

James paused for what seemed minutes. 'I did.' Brennan gave a short sharp laugh, simultaneously shaking her head and rolling glassy eyes. 'But – they wanted it. I swear, I didn't force anything on them. They were desperate'. He smiled sickeningly.

'They were _lonely_,' Brennan stated forcefully. 'You took advantage of them'. Booth glanced at her uneasily as she shook her head faster, a look of disgust darkening her features.

'I helped them. I gave them the attention they craved…'

'And what did they give you?' She was angry now, 'they were only fifteen and sixteen years old. They'd been _abandoned _by their families, what they craved was support, and stability! You abused your position of trust – do you have any idea what foster kids go through?'

'You do', James replied, 'I'm sensing you've had your own personal experiences within the system. You can't tell me you never yearned for a connection with someone... however _inappropriate_... I gave them what they wanted -'

'Alright, that's enough', Booth interrupted, glancing over at his partner. Brennan stood up straight and looked as though she wanted to punch the guy across the table. Not doubting for a minute that she could, and would, Booth spoke softly,

'Bones'.

She stepped back from the table, keeping her eyes trained on James, then turned and walked from the room. Booth watched her go before focussing his stare back across the table.

'We found traces of Casey's blood on the stone wall in your garden. We know she hit her head, and that's what killed her'.

No reply.

'Did you fight with her before she disappeared?'

James gazed unflinching at the persistent FBI agent. 'I'd like to call my lawyer now'. Booth smiled.

'Of course you would'.

* * *

_So what did you think? I wanted to hint at how the case may be affecting Brennan - she possibly knew a foster father just like James Ryan... I hope I managed without making her out of character. She can get angry sometimes and I think this is a guy that would really get to her. We'll have some BB one-on-one time in the next chapter so she can talk about why she walked out at what Ryan said ;-) _

_Please review!!! I love to return to comments, and hear what you liked/ disliked. _

_tmprnc_


	7. An intimate conversation

_Angst alert! I have, as always, tried to remain in keeping with the show, but as this case is hitting a little too close to home for Bren I had to have this scene. Brennan is a really interesting character for me to write, as there are so many different sides to her, some of which you hardly ever see, but I hope to convey. I wanted her to open up to Booth, but not too much - he would try to press a little further, but there's only so far she's willing to go with this stuff. _

_That's my interpretation anyway lol! Let me know what you think. _

_Disclaimer: Bones belongs to Hart Hanson and Fox TV, and is inspired by Kathy Reichs. I'm just a fan. _

* * *

Her office was quiet save for the quick and regular tapping of her fingers on the keyboard as she wrote. Brennan stared at the computer screen, her mind running ceaselessly over a myriad of images; new scenes for her latest book floated by, but her brain kept replacing Kathy Reichs with Casey, and then there was James Ryan, leering towards her. She sighed; she was getting nowhere with this chapter.

'There's that stunned look again', she started as Hodgins' voice broke the silence, 'new book?'

Frowning slightly at the interruption, Brennan looked over at him and sighed, rolling her shoulders back as she spoke.

'Yes. I was trying to distract myself - Booth's questioning the foster father now, and… I wasn't really helping'. She returned to the computer, pulled a face, deleted something and retyped.

Hodgins gave her a small smile, knowing how hard cases like this must be for someone with her history, someone who always became so involved, despite her assertions to the contrary. Booth walked up behind him and stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame, the case file in his hands.

'Hey Bones'.

Hodgins turned and nodded at him, knowing that was his cue to leave.

'Hey G-Man'. Slapping him briefly on the shoulder he left the room, as Booth entered in his place. Brennan glanced over at him and returned to her work.

'I looked for you at the FBI building Bones, why'd you leave?'

'I wasn't helping Booth', she looked up at her partner who was moving slowly towards her, 'I was, too emotionally involved. You saw… I had to step back, right?'

He thought about what she said as he walked to the chair in front of the desk, facing hers. Sitting down and straightening his tie he looked her in the eye.

'You OK, Bones?'

'I'm fine'. She smiled.

'Cause you were pretty worked up…'

'It was a momentary lapse of judgement Booth, he just, got to me is all. It won't happen again'.

A silence fell over the pair as they looked at each other, Brennan wondering how to change the subject, Booth contemplating how to continue it. She spoke first.

'What did he say? James Ryan?'

'Not a lot - he's waiting for his lawyer. Admits to sleeping with both girls, but not to killing Casey, accidentally or otherwise. Reckons he doesn't know where Charlie is either'.

He eyed her carefully as she shook her head and blew out a deep breath.

'Bones, I know guys like this. They're all cocky, but eventually we get 'em. Eventually they break. Is there any way you can prove that he did it?'

'I'll have Angela run the scenario through the Angelator… we can determine the force that would have been necessary for the head injury to occur, see if it matches James's height and weight'.

'Great, let's do that'. He rose to leave the room, and then stopped.

'Oh, and Bones?' He pointed his finger at her to make sure she was listening, 'you _were_ helping, with James Ryan. You got him all, riled up'. He smiled and turned towards the door.

'Booth'. She had leaned forward slightly over the desk and was looking at him, lips parted, as if deciding whether or not to speak. He knew this look; she wanted to tell him something. Desperately needed someone to know and to understand, but as usual wasn't sure if she could find the words, or if he even wanted to hear. He sat back down to show that he did.

'I know men like James Ryan too'. She lowered her gaze and continued, casually playing with a paperclip on the desk as she formed her words.

'The second foster family I went to… I was sixteen. I was scared, lonely… I thought my parents had abandoned me, and Russ had left…' she gave a dry laugh and rolled her eyes, 'I thought my family hated me'.

'Bones'.

'I thought, that no one _wanted_ me, that it didn't matter to anybody if I was there or not. Even my first placement didn't work out, and I don't really know why'. She looked up at him with dewy eyes and took a deep breath.

'But the _second_ family… they made me feel wanted. They had three other boys, all foster kids. I never really felt settled anywhere, but that house was probably the closest I got to it'.

Booth smiled at this memory; although it was no doubt short lived, he imagined this family, whoever they were, as a rare glimmer of hope for the young Temperance. He almost didn't want to hear what happened next, but knew she needed to tell it.

'My foster father was good to me. He would always take me aside and ask me how I was doing. He had a walk he used to go on, and he'd always take me with him – there were these woods near the house and there was a clearing where you could see for miles…' she stopped, realising that she was rambling. Booth's eyes were burning into her and she could feel her cheeks beginning to flush.

'I let myself trust him Booth. I don't even know why, it was so stupid. I should have known. We went out one day and he kissed me. Said it was so nice having me in the house, that he enjoyed my company… and, I didn't stop him'. She clamped her lips together and shook her head as the tears gathered in her eyes without spilling over.

'Not the first time. James Ryan was right today, I _did_ want it. I thought I did. Afterwards I felt sick, and when he tried it again I threatened to tell his wife, but he kept pushing, on and on… one time he went too far, and I went to DCF. I managed to get myself removed from the house but, nothing else. It was my word against his'. She shrugged. '_I_ got myself away from him. Casey and Charlie didn't. Some people don't deserve to raise children Booth. They shouldn't be in the system. People like James Ryan, they think because no one else wants you, that it gives them the right to you, like you're public property. Like they're doing someone a favour recycling another family's garbage'. She briskly wiped her cheek where a single tear had made a break for freedom and cleared her throat.

'What happened?' Booth found his voice, 'you said he went too far…' He spoke slowly, carefully, not wanting to press for too many details, but desperately trying to quench the anger he suddenly felt. Maybe she was right about his 'alpha-maleness', but hey, if that meant being protective of her then so be it. She pretty much didn't have a say in that, in fact, _he_ didn't half the time.

Sighing, she straightened in her chair. 'Let's just say, he's the reason I learned to defend myself'.

Knowing she'd said enough he relented and once more stood up.

'Thank you for telling me Temperance'. She smiled resignedly as he left the room, pausing in the doorway and turning back, his voice low.

'You were never some family's garbage. You were never not wanted'. She rolled her eyes again, 'Temperance. Your parents left to protect you, because they loved you - remember that'. He looked directly into her eyes.

'And we _will_ get this one'.

* * *

_Please review!!_

_I updated quicker, if you'll notice :-D I have planned out the whole story to the end now, and it's very exciting! There will be 3 chapters after this one._

_tmprnc _


	8. A witness

_Once again, thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my story so far. There were less reviews for the last chapter than there have been previously though... :-( please review, it makes me a happy writer!!! _

_We're nearly at the end of this case now! Although all is not as straight forward as it may seem... _

_A quick note - my A Level physics was a long time ago, and I have no idea what kind of force would be required for a head injury like Casey's to occur. Please just accept the figures and go with it LOL. Cheers. _

_Disclaimer - Bones does not belong to me, sadly. _

* * *

'Booth'. A round face topped with straw-coloured hair appeared in the gap between the door and the wall of his office, shortly followed by the rest of a body as Agent Nickson eased himself into the room, a teenaged girl in tow.

'I've got a… Charlotte Dean here. Says she needs to see you?' Booth glanced up from the case file that lay spread open on his desk, mouth gaping slightly in surprise at his colleague's news.

'Uh, ok… hi, Charlotte?' He stood up and beckoned her over to the chair in front of his desk. She slowly inched her way toward him, chewing on her bottom lip and fiddling with the strap of her bag. 'Thanks', he dismissed the agent hovering by the wall and walked around the large mahogany desk, perching himself casually on the front edge, and piercing Charlie's blue eyes with his own dark ones.

'Charlotte… a lot of people are out there looking for you…'

'It's Charlie. And I'm sorry I ran away'. Her lip trembled and she looked nervously at Booth, tears threatening to spill over at any minute. 'It's just… I saw you at the house. Asking questions about Casey? I knew you'd try to find out what happened. And I was so afraid you'd ask me'. Her words became strained as she started to cry and she hastily wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sniffing loudly. 'I'm sorry… I really am. But I had, - I had to get away. I didn't want to live with him anymore anyway'.

'Your foster father?' She nodded, her face showing a look of disgust that Booth recognised from Brennan's earlier interrogation of their suspect.

'Ok, Charlie, listen to me. Do you have something you need to tell me?'

She sat stock still, her hands in her lap, knees pressed tightly together in an attitude of defence. Peering up at him through glistening eyelashes, she wrinkled her brow and looked at a loss for what to say next.

'Did you see anything Charlie? Do you know what happened to Casey before she disappeared… when she hit her head?'

The terrified fifteen-year-old gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, and then replied with a sudden outburst. 'I can't tell you. I can't, I can't, I ca-', her voice faded to a whisper as she dissolved in front of him.

Booth had seen enough to know that this young witness held the answers they desperately needed; if he could only get her to talk…

* * *

Brennan stood in front of the Angelator, arms crossed in front of her, mouth twisted to the side, as she watched the virtual re-enactment unfold. A holographic Casey was positioned with her back to a stone wall; at Angela's command she fell backwards, her head colliding with it sickeningly.

'The force that would be necessary to cause the haematoma would be… 40 Newtons', Zach calculated quickly, looking at Brennan for her concurrence. She nodded.

'James Ryan is 5'11", and 180lbs'.

Angela tapped efficiently on the electronic clipboard in her hands. 'If I enter those values for our assailant, we get… this'. The scene once again unravelled before the onlookers, this time with a computerised James Ryan pushing Casey towards the wall. The squeamish artist winced as the victim's skull cracked and shifted violently as she landed.

'That force is way too big', mused Cam, raising her eyebrows at the three-dimensional image, 'If he'd pushed her she would have died quickly – probably the same day. Are we sure it's him?'

Brennan sighed and moved her hands to rest on her hips. 'Maybe he didn't use his full strength'.

'Or maybe, she just fell', Cam responded. 'There's really no way to tell what happened from this injury'.

Brennan's mind was working overtime, desperately trying to think of anything else they could try, anything they may have missed that could move them forward again. She felt cheated; by science, by the dead, the one thing she'd believed she could always count on. Here she had a body and a crime scene, and yet the evidence she had was simply not enough to get a conviction against this man. She didn't even know if there had been any foul play, or if it was simply a tragic accident. If she could only get James Ryan to talk, to admit what had happened…

She reached for her phone, as halfway across DC Booth punched the speed dial for her number. It rang out, the shrill bell vibrating through the silence in Angela's office.

'Booth, hi… I was just going to call… she's in your office? Now?'

On the other end of the line Booth paced his office and looked through the glass door at the young girl who was now seated in the waiting area, an untouched cup of canteen coffee in her lap. He didn't blame her, the FBI coffee was -

'What did she say Booth?' Brennan's voice came through the speaker and he turned back to face his desk.

'I know she saw something Bones. Alright? She _knows_ something'.

'I'll be right there'.

* * *

Booth once more sat behind his desk, leaning forward on his elbows and glancing from Charlie to Brennan, who occupied the remaining two chairs in the office. He smiled softly at his partner, evidently doing her best to be a 'people' person, whilst simultaneously working her scientist's mind behind the scenes as she questioned their witness.

'Charlie, we found some blood… belonging to Casey, on the stone wall at the Ryans. We know she hit her head… but, we don't know if it was an accident, or if somebody pushed her'. She stared at the top of the girl's head, silently willing her to look up, to tell them what she knew.

'Did she die because she hit her head?'

'Yes. She suffered a subdural -', Brennan checked herself, briefly closing her eyes and biting her lip before explaining to Charlie, 'It's a build up of pressure. In the brain… she died because of it'.

Tears streamed down Charlie's cheeks and she began to shake her head violently from side to side.

'I'm sorry. I can't -'

'Charlotte'. Booth stepped in, his use of her full name having a surprisingly similar effect to that which occurred whenever he used his partner's. She momentarily stopped crying, looking at him as though trying to will herself to speak, to tell the truth. She knew he was serious, knew now that she had to tell them, whatever the cost.

'I do know what happened'. She stopped again, visibly trembling all over. Brennan probed gently.

'Did your foster father fight with Casey? Did he push her?'

'Mr Ryan didn't do it'.

'Wait, he didn't?' Booth leaned further across the table, as if he thought he might have misheard.

'Who was it Charlie?' Brennan too leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees, searching the young girl with her eyes.

The silence seemed to last forever to Charlie. An internal battle was raging as she looked desperately at the two people in front of her. She momentarily wondered if they would guess what she had to say, if she thought it long enough and hard enough. She would give anything not to have to say it out loud. Eventually her conscience won out and she stammered,

'I did it. I fought with Casey. And I pushed her into the wall'.

Booth sat back slowly in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, breathing in and then out deeply as he contemplated the situation. Brennan had turned her head slightly and was looking at him wide-eyed, almost fearful. Charlie dropped her head to her knees and sobbed.

* * *

_Was anyone expecting the twist? Did Charlie's confession seem realistic? I tried to give an insight into her character as well as Brennan and Booth's responses. We'll get her full story in the next chapter. _

_And don't worry, James Ryan isn't off the hook. He won't get away with his actions towards the girls ;-) _

_Please review, pretty please? _

_tmprnc_


	9. The truth

_Shock, horror, she's updated. I know, it's hard to believe - and I apologise profusely for my tardiness!! Life has just gotten in the way of everything, including writing, recently, but I have made time this weekend to continue this story, in case anyone still cares for an update lol! And I know that we had a confession in the last chapter, so the case is really solved - but I needed closure and so do Brennan and Booth! So in keeping with the show, and the usual final scenes of each episode, I am wrapping everything up with this, and the next, chapter. And then that's the end! _

_With this chapter I wanted to really focus on the similarities between Brennan and Charlie, and how Brennan would identify with another foster child. I've hopefully also conveyed something of the way Brennan and Booth think of each other so although we're coming down from the actual story line now, I hope it still makes for interesting reading. Please let me know! _

_Disclaimer: Bones is not mine. This is just for fun and writing practice!_

* * *

The interrogation room seemed all the more imposing when it contained such a young and terrified looking girl. A girl who had somehow gotten herself into trouble without even knowing where she had gone wrong – who was lost, and scared, and who had been taken advantage of by people who should have known better.

Brennan's heart skipped irregularly as she stood, arms folded, and gazed at Charlie through the two-way mirror. It could so easily have been her sitting there. At sixteen she had been such a raw mixture of emotions: anger, hurt, and sadness constantly coursed through her, wrapped up in heady confusion and all intertwined, worst of all, with the burning irrational fear that her parents' disappearance had somehow been caused by something she had done. She knew exactly how Casey and Charlie had felt when they were thrust into family after family of strangers, and she knew why they hadn't told James Ryan 'no'. She got that they were vulnerable and needy, and even understood why they had fought over the attentions of a man who should never have been allowed anywhere near them.

She had been lucky, all things considered. Now here was another girl in the same position, and Brennan knew instinctively that she had to do whatever she could to keep her safe, and away from any man like Ryan. Breathing deeply and turning from the glass she let her eyes follow Booth as he entered the viewing room and walked toward her.

'You ready Bones?' With a curt nod she straightened her jacket and squared her shoulders, and the two of them walked round to the next room, where Charlie was waiting nervously, her hands knotted tightly in her lap, eyes fixed on a glass of water in front of her. A friendly and open looking juvenile lawyer from Child Services spoke in soothing tones beside her, but her words went unheard.

Looking up as the door opened Charlie visibly stiffened in her chair and her lawyer placed a hand on her forearm.

'Agent Booth, this is very upsetting for my client'.

'We know, we just want to clarify what happened between Charlie and Casey, the day that Casey ran away', replied Booth.

'Can you tell us how it happened?' Brennan questioned softly, taking the seat opposite their young suspect and leaning forward on her arms, 'Do you remember why you fought with Casey?'

Charlie remained silently staring at the table top; since her confession in Booth's office she had clammed up, refusing to answer the questions put to her, as if she regretted ever speaking in the first place.

'Charlie it was very good of you to come in to the FBI, but we still need you to tell us what happened in more detail', Booth pressed further, as the lawyer eyed him sternly, warning him to tread carefully.

'Why?' two watery blue eyes looked up at him through a fringe of blonde, as Charlie spoke, 'I already told you I did it, and I told you how. I pushed her. Can't you just lock me up now?' She pleaded with the adults in the room, as fresh tears fought their way free of her lashes.

'We're trying to stop that happening Charlie -'

'But I deserve it! I pushed Casey and she hit the wall. _You _said that was how she died', pointing an accusing finger at Brennan she continued, 'you told me it was because she hit her head. I'm a murderer OK? Just please... _please_ just lock me up... I deserve it I deserve to be locked up...'

She trailed off as the lawyer warned her in a whisper not to say anything more. Brennan leant further forward, her arms on the table, eyes glistening and locked with Charlie's.

'You are not a murderer. OK?' She glanced at Booth, 'we understand that what happened to Casey was an accident'. Charlie shook her head violently as Brennan continued, 'you didn't mean to kill her'. She reached across to the two shaking hands that were now in tight fists on the table and spoke quietly, directly to Charlie, 'I _understand_. I do. I just need you to talk to me'.

Feeling her partner's hand rest gently on her shoulder Brennan turned, silently assuring him with her eyes that she could handle this, if she just had some time with Charlie she could find out what had happened.

'I'll be right outside', said Booth, looking from Brennan, to Charlie, the lawyer, and then back to Brennan. Nodding encouragingly he turned and left the room, to once more watch from the outside. Feeling the weight of his hand leave her shoulder Brennan suddenly felt nervous, although it was completely irrational – she was questioning a teenage girl. But she also felt empowered, pleased that the FBI agent trusted her to get to the truth when the interrogation room really wasn't her domain. She had always known that he respected her judgement at the lab, with the evidence, but he had told her she was bad with people. Yet here was proof to the contrary.

Charlie and her lawyer were sitting quietly now, waiting, expectant. She took a deep breath and began.

From the next room Booth watched intently. He did not want Charlie to be sent to juvenile detention, and he was fairly certain that she wouldn't be. It hadn't been murder, hadn't been premeditated, or intentional, and the poor girl's circumstances preceding the incident would pull at any judge's heartstrings, if they had any. It would be involuntary manslaughter, and as a minor, with mitigating circumstances, she could get a suspended sentence. But it disgusted him that she was even in this position. And while he was going to ensure that James Ryan never fostered any other children, this also meant that Charlie and the two younger girls would have to move on once again, to another city, another family, another school. The whole thing disgusted him.

He sighed as he watched Bones lean on the table, talking softly and empathically, letting on just enough that Charlie would understand she had been through the same thing.

'I know how you felt, when you got to the Ryan's. How you'd been to other families, and none of them had worked out. How you thought, 'this isn't going to be any different. Nowhere is ever going to work out, no one's ever going to want me living with them'.

Charlie looked up through her hair and spoke warily, 'How do you know?'

'I know how you felt when Mr. Ryan said that he _did_ want you there. How you believed him, because you wanted to, and because it felt so good to be part of a family'.

An almost imperceptible nod from Charlie.

'And I know that when he wanted more from you, you wanted to make him happy. You loved the feeling of attachment, the warmth, the excitement of an adult relationship. He was nice to you. He bought you presents, made you laugh... said that he loved you...'

'He did love me!' said Charlie emphatically, 'he loved me and he kissed me and said that we were gonna leave Mrs. Ryan, and the others... he said he didn't want to live with them anymore, he just wanted to be with _me_. It's the truth, he did love me. And no one else had ever done that so...' she trailed off and shrugged as Brennan chose her words carefully.

'But he loved Casey too, didn't he'.

The statement had the desired effect. Charlie's head shot up once more, her eyes blazing towards Brennan. 'She knew I loved him. She knew that we were going to leave together. It was my secret and I chose to tell her. I wish I'd never said anything'.

'How did Casey react when you told her?'

'She told me to shut up, that I was being stupid, and that he didn't love me. She said it was sick that I thought about Mr. Ryan like that. And she stopped talking to me for a couple days...'

'When did you find out that Casey was also in a... relationship with Mr. Ryan?' Brennan continued, thinking drily that 'relationship' was such a sickeningly ironic term.

'She told me. I was looking at a picture I had of me and Mr. Ryan, and she came in our room and saw it over my shoulder. She laughed, and she said that I must be really stupid if I still believed he loved me. I asked her what she would know about it... and then she said... that Mr. Ryan couldn't be in love with me, because he loved _her_...' she paused and Brennan nodded her on.

'She said that he had told her he wasn't really going to leave with me. He had only lied to me, because I was jealous of what they had. She said... that I was confused and that he had only told me he loved me because... because no... no one else ever would'.

'What happened on the day that Casey ran away, Charlie?'

'I hadn't spoken to Casey in about a week. But I found... a pregnancy test... in the trash in our bathroom. She didn't even bother to hide it properly, like she wanted me to find out. It was positive... so I went to find her'. She took a deep breath and Brennan flicked her eyes to the mirror, where she knew Booth would be standing, waiting.

'She was in the garden and I... I walked straight up to her. I told her I had seen the test... I meant to just yell at her... but I felt so angry... and she was smiling. I pushed her, I didn't do it hard. And... we fought, she pushed me back... and I grabbed her hair... and I shoved her towards the wall'. The last words came distorted through tears, but it was a confession. Brennan breathed deeply as Charlie finished her story.

'She fell on the ground, and she was holding the back of her head. And then... there was blood on her hand... and I got really scared. I said I was sorry, I said I didn't mean to hurt her', Charlie spoke quickly, fiercely. 'She got up and yelled at me, she said I was crazy... and she ran back to the house. She must have packed her stuff then... and that... that's it'.

Brennan placed her hand on Charlie's and looked at the lawyer, who gave a sad smile in return before assuring her young client that she had done well.

'I think Charlotte has told you everything, Dr. Brennan'.

Brennan nodded and turned back to the two-way mirror, looking through her own reflection to where she guessed Booth was standing, and letting out a breath she didn't even realise she had been holding.

Booth nodded even though he knew she couldn't see him. She had done it. She had gained the trust of a girl who did not give it easily, and had gotten from her a story that she did not want to tell. Perhaps Bones could be good with people after all. He smiled, straightened his tie, and walked to the interrogation room. He was proud of her. And although he would forever tease her about not being a 'people' person, he had a sneaking suspicion that Temperance Brennan could be anything she wanted to be if she put her mind to it.

_Please leave a review and tell me what you liked/ didn't like, constructive criticism is always appreciated. Thanks!_

_tmprnc xo_


	10. Closure

_The story is finally complete, I know I've been rubbish at updating but I had to add this little scene to the end to tie everything together. I have always kept the story in true keeping with the show, and they always have a short 'closure' scene between B & B at the end of an episode. So that's what this is. And I quite like it, even if I do say so myself!_

_Also, I am starting another story, hurrah! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, I'm just playing with the characters for a little while._

The glow from the desk lamp fell softly on Brennan's features as she leaned back in her chair and sighed, looking up at the doorway. Her partner stood with his weight resting on the door frame, arms folded, an expression of curiosity and compassion on his face as he watched her. Despite his constant pestering to get her to go home earlier he secretly admitted to himself that he like to catch her here at this hour; the lab was quiet, and calm, and with the lights dimmed their conversations always seemed that little bit more, intimate. Her voice travelled smoothly through the silence, waking him from his thoughts.

'Case closed?' He nodded.

'We have the confession from Ryan that he abused those girls; he's in custody right now. Turns out his wife had no idea what was going on.' Brennan pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows slightly, as Booth entered the room fully and made his way over to the chair in front of her desk.

'Did he touch the other girls?'

'Not the younger two. But the Ryans have been fostering for some time, all girls, mostly 15, 16 year olds – DCF's looking into it but unless any of them come forward... we won't know.' He sighed and sat down, fingering his tie as he pursed his lips.

'The younger girls are back in a group home, awaiting placement with another family.' She nodded and gave a rueful smile, before switching her attention to the file on her desk. A smiling school photograph of Casey Warren looked back at her, blonde hair long behind her back, blue eyes locking with Brennan's.

'Bones.' She looked directly at him.

'It's just another case, Booth. Just another victim.'

'But you _connected_ with this one.'

'What? No I didn't.' She gave the tiniest of laughs and shifted her gaze once more to the desk, uncomfortable. How was it that he always knew what she was feeling? And how did he figure it out before she did?

'You'd been in the same position. You identified with her.'

'_No_ Booth, I'm a scientist. My job isn't to, _connect_ with the victims, my job is to look at the facts of the case, that's... that's what I do.' She trailed off and looked up at him, daring him to challenge her assertion of total impartiality. He countered her almost immediately.

'But _sometimes_ we can't help it. And that's ok, Bones, you're allowed to feel for these people. I know, you're very good at compartmentalising, and analysing, _rationally_, but you're only human. No matter what you might think. And it's ok to be sad.'

'I am sad. And I do... feel...' her voice caught and she clamped her lips together again, afraid and unwilling to continue talking about her emotions. As far as she could tell it was making her feel worse. What she needed to do was work. She needed another case.

'I know.' His voice was softer than usual and she dipped her eyes as they begun to glisten and a lump grew in her throat. How did he do it?

'I just... I don't know, why... we do what we do, when it doesn't change anything. We can't _prevent_ any of this from happening, all we can do is pick up the pieces afterward, it's... we're too late, Booth.' She sighed, embarrassed, and continued,



'I'm being irrational. It's stupid.'

'No, it's normal. And we do a lot more than pick up the pieces. All of us, the squints, the other agents... it's important that we find out what happened to people when they can't tell the story for themselves. It's called justice; it gives the family's closure.' She was listening, her head tilted slightly to one side as he spoke.

'And as for preventing... James Ryan will never foster again. Think of the number of possible victims we've protected. The work we do is good, Bones, and valuable.' He took the case file from the desk and closed it, all the while keeping his eyes on hers.

'Now, my stomach is speaking to me, and it's asking for pie, so... diner?' She smiled.

'You know your stomach can't actually speak to you Booth.'

'Yeah, maybe _yours_ can't. I can hear mine loud and clear,' he raised his eyebrows playfully and treated her to another of his patented charm smiles.

'C'mon, let's get out of here.'

She stood, and taking her jacket from the back of the chair, walked round the desk to join her partner. He took the jacket and held it out for her, as she eased her arms and shoulders into its enveloping material. He put his arm around her and pulled her toward him, squeezing ever so gently, and guiding her from the room.

'You'll be alright Temperance.'

His voice came almost as a whisper and she glanced up at him sideways through the gloom of the darkened lab. They walked comfortably together, their footsteps in sync, to the door of the Jeffersonian and out into the evening.

**The End**

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading, I hope you have enjoyed the story. I know this chapter is short but I would really appreaciate reviews. The ending of a story is always tricky to get right - you don't want it to be cliched or cheesy! Hopefully I have done it justice. _

_Until next time... _


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